Metal
by angelic-o-wings
Summary: I never heard the phrase 'life is like metal' before. Not once in my life, actually. But, the more you think about it, the more it’s true.


_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Ed, Edd n' Eddy characters. I only own the plot to this story._

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_Metal_

I never heard the phrase "life is like metal" before. Not once in my life, actually. But, the more you think about it, the more it's true.

Life was cold at times, slicing you to the bone in its cruel attempts to teach you lessons. Though, from its luster, you can't stop yourself from walking back into its trap. Walking its sharp edge would be suicide in itself, but millions of people did it every day.

Metal…well, I guess that was pretty self-explanatory. Still, I had no idea how many times I made that comparison. Now, it was something I couldn't stop thinking about.

I shuddered as I noticed how cold it was in the room. It hadn't been that way a few minutes ago. The carpet wasn't really helping with my discomfort, either. It was itchy on my sensitive skin and scratched at my cheek where I lay.

After a while, my easy breathing turned to something difficult. I gasped a few times, desperately filling my lungs with oxygen and coughing back what they couldn't handle. It was a totally reverse effect, but made my chest stop aching for a few minutes.

The blade I had used had scattered across the floor, just a few feet away from me. It lay directly in front of my face, almost torturing me. I could see the blood that ran down its sharp edge. My blood.

I hadn't suspected this to be so strange.

My arm twitched slightly, and I turned my attention from the small razor to it. My skin was beginning to grow pale. I knew that would happen. After loosing so much blood, pigment is eventually forgotten.

The slash on my wrist was the worse part. A gash about four inches long that ran across the angry vein in my arm and absolutely gushing blood. I could smell it, and it was awful! That terrible scent of iron that almost makes you want to be sick…I desperately wanted to get away from it.

With a good fraction of my strength, I pushed myself up on my fragile arms. It was then that I saw just how much blood I had actually lost. It pooled around me in a large circle, soaked up forever in the peach carpet. I turned my head away from the sight; it was disgusting. If I had the energy, I would most likely be hopelessly trying to scrub out the stubborn stain before it was to set.

I decided to leave that as a parting gift for my parents…

My weight was too much on my limbs, and I wound up toppling back down to the floor. I wanted to sob, scream, anything! The thought of dying on the floor was so cliché. I thought I deserved at least passing on with a little dignity.

The slash on my arm had begun to actually hurt now, something I didn't expect. From what I had researched, a human being would die of blood loss before the pain really took its toll.

Of course, the internet isn't always a reliable source.

Breathing was becoming more of a chore by the minute. Every now and then, my body would hitch and I would be fully alert once again. That effect was definitely bad, no doubt.

I tried to take my mind off the pain. I thought about what would happen when I really did die. Who would be the first to find me? What would they do?

Actually, would the people who find me really care? That was scary to think about, even scarier than holding a razor blade to your wrist and severing your life span in one simple movement.

It had been so easy. I knew exactly what was going to happen, making things a little less terrifying.

I looked over all the other scars on my arm. They had been sad attempts from before, and they gradually led up to my wrist. The bottom scars were faded, almost completely into the skin, while the top ones were still fresh. Three years wasn't enough to heal those wounds.

Finding the vein was simple, as well. Being so thin, it didn't take me long to look. It had stuck up when I squeezed my wrist for a moment and twitched when I pressed the blade gently to the flesh, but not enough to break the skin. Before the main event, I had considered my chores.

Although corny, after sixteen years, I still fretted about things like that. Yes, even when I was holding a weapon to my lifeline.

When I finally pushed that thought out of my mind, I pushed the blade into my wrist.

I hadn't anticipated the shock of actually going through with my plan, and the blade slipped from my hand and I fell like a rag doll to the floor. The blood quickly began to slip down my arm, then spill quietly into the pure carpet. There I lay, just between the couch and the freshly dusted coffee table.

My legs were the first to go numb. It worked out well; if I had second thoughts and decided to try and find assistance to a hospital, my legs wouldn't let me. But, I wasn't going to have second thoughts. Not one.

The wicked pain in my wrist pulsed, and something was making my head pound. I truly wished I would just breathe my last breath, already! Suicide was suppose to be a way to end the pain, not make it worse.

The pounding I assumed was in my head began to grow louder. If I could move, I would have grabbed my scull in agony, but there was no way. I had used the last of my strength.

Eventually, the pounding stopped and was soon replaced with another sound: I heard my name being called.

Strange…but the voice sounder familiar. I pushed my head up slightly with a weak groan in the direction of the echo. It was difficult, but not impossible.

It was hard to distinguish the sounds from reality or side effects from lack of blood. That line had already become so blurred, I could no longer tell anymore.

Instead, I stared onward and out of the living room where I had collapsed. Every cell left in me hoped it was not real. The last thing I wanted was for someone to find me in this state. It would, without a doubt, result in my undesired rescue.

But, then again, maybe I would be lucky. Maybe I was just loosing it.

Finally, after so long, I couldn't feel the pain. It felt so nice to go numb and loose all feeling. My head stopped aching and a ringing in my ears soon took its place. My vision was just slightly blurred now, but I still had it.

I didn't hear the banging on my door again, and not the loud boom of it swinging open. But, I could feel the vibrations of calm footsteps in the other room, right near the door. Someone had come in; my worst fear realized.

I closed my eyes as I involuntarily twitched a few times again. This was all going to be for waste. I would soon be in a stretcher and rushed out of the house, off to add another miserable handful of years to my life.

The spasm stopped soon, and I was lying still again. I heard a voice, far away, call my name a few more times.

And then, the footsteps were heavy and incredibly close. I opened my eyes just in time to see a body collapse on the floor next to me.

I could easily catch the emotions in this voice as they spoke. It was coated with worry and terror, but the anger in the tone overwhelmed it all.

Eddy.

I felt him grasp my shoulder and flip me onto my back, helping me conclude it really was him.

I could just barely make out his features through my clouded eyes, but it was Eddy. His blue eyes were wide and his face was pale. Almost as pale as me, which really said something.

"Double Dee!" His words sounded strangled in his throat. He shook me slightly while I only stared up at him. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind to answer him.

Panicked, he shook me harder. "Double Dee!"

I coughed a few times as I filled my lungs once again. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath. A relieved smile spread across his face when he heard that deep gasp, glad I was still alive. That smile, however, disappeared quickly. This new expression was pure fear.

"Double Dee, what did you do!?" he inquired loudly, shaking me once again by the shoulders. I really wished he would stop. The shaking was only making the pain and alertness return.

The blood was still running from my wrist like water. He picked it up and inspected the wound, several different looks of disgust spreading across his face while he did so. Blood began to travel down my arm. I wanted to squirm at the feeling as it slinked under my sleeve. A few droplets fell and dripped into the carpet, disappearing in the sea of burgundy.

When he had finished looking at my wrist, he carefully set it down beside me and did something I would have never expected.

He cautiously wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up off the floor. I dangled there a second until he clasped his hand on the back of my head, and he buried his face into my shoulder. He trembled a little, and I knew he had started crying.

"Why?" he asked through terrible sobs. His arms were griped tightly around my frame, nearly constricting me as I struggled to breath. He heard my labor, and released his grip around me a little. "Why did you do it!?"

Why? That was something I hadn't thought of recently.

Of course, why else would a person choose to end their life on Earth? Obviously, Earth was a hell in itself. My parents made that abundantly clear every day of my life.

Coming home to an empty house, walls full of yellow notes with crude scribbles of love and chores, emotional and physical abuse by those people who claimed I was their 'pride and joy' to others… It was all so obvious.

After returning from school that day a week ago, and finding that note stuck to the television screen was definitely the last straw. I read it over and over again, the words like a knife in my heart.

What sort of parents just vanish for a week with not a word about it to their child? And especially without a proper good-bye.

Even when they went on their little 'business trips' together. They were all just lies to cover up their need for escape, and I knew that since I was learning to talk.

Eventually, a human being breaks under the depression of neglect. And that was exactly what had happened.

It all lead up to the day my parents were meant to return home. One horrible, lonely week later. There I was, bleeding to death in Eddy's arms as he cried into my shoulder. That was the last way I ever expected to go.

The buzzing in my ears eventually became unbearable. I blinked repeatedly, trying to rid away the haze of my view, and conjured all the strength I could in order to speak.

"…Eddy." My throat was aching now and my voice was just barely audible.

His head lifted up just enough to look me in the eyes. Blonde hair hung all in his face, framing his blurred figure perfectly. I could feel my ebony hair clinging to my cheeks, which were slick with sweat at that point. The loose strands that would normally be tucked safely away in my hat were free, thus annoyingly hanging just above my eyes.

I so wished I hadn't taken it off before I went through with my plan. But, something so out of character just seemed like a poetic end. It just turned out to be a nuisance.

I wasn't sure if he heard me. So, as painful and difficult as it was, I tried again. "Eddy…" This time, the struggle was clear, and Eddy acknowledged it.

His eyes became alert, a few tears still falling from them, and he positioned me where I stared directly up at him, still in his arms. It was very uncomfortable, but I didn't bother expressing it.

"What's wrong?" When he spoke, I felt a pang of guilt.

The numbness wasn't enough to stop the pain in my ears. I twitched a little, and he gripped me tighter. "Eddward, talk to me!"

I took a deep breath again, and stared him in the eyes as best as I could. "I'm…sorry."

He looked confused as the words slowly seeping into his mind. Eventually, the exhaustion was unbearable, and I collapsed against his chest. I could very clearly smell the cheap cologne he wore all the time. It practically burned my nostrils and eyes.

That confused expression he bore most likely vanished as he pulled me into another tight embrace.

He rested his forehead in the crook of my neck as his tears began to pick up once again. They fell onto my skin and traveled down my shoulder. I wanted so desperately to wrap my arms around him and offer any soothing words I could.

Something like that is difficult when you've nearly been drained…

I heard him mumbling, just barely loud enough to be heard.

"Please, Edd, don't die…Don't die! Please don't leave me!"

I could feel my heart breaking as he continued to beg. His voice sounded of an emotion I had never heard from him before. He was actually showing sorrow. Part of me wanted to be touched, while whatever was left of me just wanted the mental abuse to end.

After a torturous eternity, Eddy let me go, sniffled and whipped a few tears from his eyes, and carefully propped me up against the couch. I would have hugged him for the act, I was just so grateful! Instead, my head hung low as he positioned me, and I just barely caught the horrid look in his eyes.

Eddy knew I was going to die, and I knew it, too. We both knew no human could be saved after loosing so much blood. It was all over his clothes. His shirt was covered with red speckles from whipping off his hands, and his white tennis shoes had turned a dark orange.

Even if he managed to alert an ambulance, even if they were there right then, it wouldn't have made any difference.

In a surprising act of kindness, Eddy brushed his fingertips across my cold, pale face. I felt the trail of crimson left behind them, and shuddered.

"Listen, Double Dee." He grasped each side of my face and tilted my head up towards his. I could barely make out whose face it was just a few inches away from me now, and his voice sounded miles away. I was fading fast.

"I'm going to get help. Just hold on for a little while longer…Please, just hold on for me."

He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs, and then let my head fall back downwards. I felt his stare on me for a moment. He was obviously scared to leave, and I didn't blame him.

If I had been in his shoes, I wouldn't have been thinking straight either. I knew I wouldn't have wanted to leave my friend to die alone…

Eddy got up slowly, standing directly in front of me as my breathing became too difficult to worry about. By that point, I just didn't care that I was struggling to hold on to my life.

He gazed at me for a moment, and then noticed the striped beanie that rested beside the couch, just against the wall. I didn't pay any attention to him as he walked over and picked it up. But, for a few moments, he studied it before kneeling back down in front of me.

With tender hands, he pushed my raven hair out of my eyes and slipped the garment onto my scalp.

It was another kind gesture I hadn't expected from him, but it only left me feeling guilty again.

But, it felt right having that attire back with me.

Eddy steadily got back to his feet. And then, after taking a long look down at the puddle of blood that used to be my clean carpet, he turned and ran out of the room. I listened closely for his footsteps until I knew for sure he was out the door.

I knew exactly where he was going. He was getting Ed. And that was the last thing I wanted him to do. I knew Eddy would forever be scarred from the sight of me lying in all that blood.

One apology for that was not enough. I hadn't even let him know why I was sorry when I told him, and I obviously only left him confused. A million apologies for putting him through all that wouldn't be enough.

I really didn't want him poisoning Ed with that image as well. I could already picture poor Ed staring down at my lifeless body. My face would be pale, and I wouldn't respond to any of his questions…any of his attempts to wake me. No matter how much Eddy would try to explain the situation to him, he would never understand. I wasn't going to wake up.

I was dead. Gone forever, Ed…

Whoever he brought, I didn't want them to see me this way. I desperately wished I had asked Eddy to stay, until the very end. It would have taken one word, and he would have understood completely. Death was terrifying as it stared me in the face, and I didn't want to face it alone…

But now, everything was too late.

My eyes slowly closed, darkening my world all around me. The last thing I saw was that damning razor in the floor. Most of the blood had been soaked up by the carpet, a small stain now resting below the sharp edge. It was just pitiful compared to the now enormous one I wasted away in.

Life really was just like metal, and I had learned the hard way. I had strayed too close to the edge and fallen off. I had permanently wounding myself and others around me because I failed to learn my lesson the first few times...

Life was cruel, and it loved to show it.

And then, all the pain, numbness, darkness, lights, regret, anger, sadness, and neglect finally vanished. With final thoughts embedded in my mind, I faded away…

_I'm sorry, Eddy. Please, don't hate me for this…_

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_BAM! My first EEnE fan ficion, and it's freakin' depressin!:D Woo!_

_Okay, first off: I haven't gotten the chance to go through and look at all the other EEnE stories, so if there are any similarities between this and a few other stories, it's pure coincidence. Thank you._

_Second of all: Dude! Double Dee is so easy to portray as an emo teen! It's fuuuuuuun!_

_Ha-ha! Okay, I'm out. _

_Please review people; let me know if I should write more EEnE stories!_

_Signing out! –salutes-_


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